Chapter IV: Part I: With the Roosevelt Hospital Unit (3)

From there we walked down the Mareuil Road, no vehicle or horses are allowed to show themselves on the northern end of the town beyond the cross-road, as the Mareuil Road is in clear view of the enemy. Gun batteries were placed every here and there, carefully camouflaged, as is everything. Two dummy guns stuck out in one place. The gunners live along the roadside in small shelters with sandbag roofs. In the hollow were two six-inch guns, which were firing a salvo of one hundred rounds each at a section of Boche trench which was pushed too near to ours. The target was 7,500 yards away over the crest of a hill. They fired at intervals of about two minutes, first one and then the other. The crash was tremendous. After watching them working for a while till my ears rang, returned to Vaux and then took the ambulance to the A. D. S. on Mareuil sector. This was well fitted up. In the past twenty-four hours under cover of the haze they had run a narrow-gauge track up to it.

Back at five p. m. for tea and then to the Bow Bells. This is a Divisional theatrical troupe, or, as it is officially known, a Divisional Concert Party, of 56th Division. It was wonderfully dramatic, as it was held in a partially demolished barn. They gave a capital show. Good voices. Two of the men were superb in their impersonation of women's parts. The show begins at six p. m. and was simply crowded. Tickets have to be booked up days in advance. We groped our way home as no searchlights can be shown on cars and had dinner at a little after eight. On the way back Very lights were constantly going up from the lines. Think of a first-class performance in a battered village, three miles away from a world war, and you can in fact surmise some of the sensations one has in watching it in a battered barn filled with nearly a thousand men and officers. And they appreciated it like children.

In the evening Padre, Mackenzie and Lawson told stories until one thirty a. m. A bully day--

Our 'phone call is "Pork."

_October 5th._ Yesterday was comparatively quiet. It blew a hurricane and in the afternoon rained hard. So we loafed about, gossiped, called on some other messes, and in the evening dined with Captain Welsh 2/6 West Yorks. He gave us a bully dinner, and several young officers were there--Captains Humphrey and Baker--they did not look twenty. Humphrey, Welsh said, had a wonderful record for bravery. He had already been decorated.

There has been a terrific barrage on since eleven a. m. We could hear the roar all through dinner, and constantly Very lights were being put up. The night was pitch black and we lost our way in the mud and darkness in trying to get to the 2/6.

This afternoon we went out with the Padre to A. D. S. at Eauze. We were going out on the railway embankment toward St. Léger when they began a pretty stiff bombardment (the English). Shells were hurled over from all directions and the air fairly hummed. It stopped our trip and we watched behind an old piece of wall the shells breaking on Bull-dog Trench, the German front lines. Some were big 5·9's and they threw up a perfectly enormous cloud of earth.

We had tea in the A. D. S. with House and Blackburn. It is their casual conversation that gives one the real sidelights on the situation. Fox, an Engineer, was standing a bit down the road when a shell broke near him. He came sauntering in as if it had been a rose-fall. When things quieted down we walked down the road and joined some of the Engineers for a bit of gossip. Then home in the ambulance.

Took a short walk into a small German cemetery. Boche when he retreated scratched off the number of the unit on every cross.

_October 6th._ Rain. Nothing doing. Bitterly cold.

_October 7th._ Bitter cold. Had ten blankets and still shivered. Went to service this morning. It was one of the most impressive sights I have ever seen. The Divisional Yorkshire Band. Most of the men were going up the line and were in heavy marching order. It made shivers up and down one's spine.

We move to 45 C. C. S. this afternoon. Shall be sorry to go.

_October 9th._ We moved to C. C. S. in a pouring rain and came into a wallowing mud hole after dark. We got a real British reception and were shown into a tent that contained nothing. "Have you a servant?" was the first question. "We have not," was the answer. So they detailed us the camp idiot. Mud, rain and a howling gale, and British stoicism. They are not a bit like the nice bunch we left.

There is nothing doing here but some trench fever cases (P. N. O.). There is absolutely nothing to do or see, so we hang around in the wet and cold and shiver.

I am anxious to hear what became of the little Padre, because some of the men were "going over the top" Sunday night, and he was going with them. If it does not rain this afternoon, McW. and I will try and find our way back there on foot for tea, as Colonel Lister said he would send us back in the bus if we did.

I shall be glad to be back at Chaumont again.

_October 11th._ We are still at Casualty Clearing Station 45, and a dreary hole it is. We tried to get away, but the D. D. M. S. would not hear of it, so we must stay our week out.

I am officer of the day to-day and am actually running H. M. C. C. S. 45, having inspected, etc., a detail of H. M.'s forces this morning.

Tuesday we went to Greyvillers and saw C. C. S. 3. They seemed much more alive there. And yesterday we were shown over C. C. S. 49, our neighbor.

It has rained the greater part of the time, with patches of sunshine here and there for short intervals.

Last night we went to Béhagnes to see the Pelicans' show. It was wonderfully good, but not as interesting or amusing as Bow Bells at the 56th Division. The Pelicans are the 62nd Division. We dined at the Officers' Club there. There were somewhere between one hundred and one hundred and fifty officers there, many fresh from the trenches. They walked in--and drove in. There was a large well-patronized bar, papers, and everything well appointed. At eight we went in to dinner, and a very good one only not sufficient. Met Crab there and several other officers I had met at the 2/1 West Riding. They were all most agreeable. The Pelicans began at nine. We walked almost all the way out and it was quite wonderful, as the battle-front was illuminated by constant gun-fire and Very lights. It is hard to imagine that one is only three or four miles away from it all.

During the performance last night the gun-fire was constant, and a battery somewhere behind our tent has kept going constantly now since four p. m. yesterday.

My duties as officer of the day are to inspect the camp detail, outgoing men, censor letters, inspect kitchens, latrines, etc. Also, I am in charge of Ward D. We shall leave Saturday morning at seven forty-five. The British Army is all right, but this lot of men are dead. I have yet failed to meet a British medical officer with any range of vision. They are provincial to the last degree and thoroughly self-satisfied. Those who have seen more of their work than I have say that as a rule it is poor, but their cleanliness and general camp sanitation is beyond criticism.

This C. C. S. is 3rd Army, 6th Corps. The C. C. S. are attached to the Army. The Commander is F. G. Fitzgerald. He just returned from leave early this morning.

_October 16th._ We left the C. C. S. Saturday morning after rather a dreary week, as it was bitterly cold and raining every day.

The train from Achet-le-Grand was crowded. We met Pool and his crowd, stopped over at Amiens for lunch, paying a second visit to the Cathedral. Then down to Paris, arriving at the Hotel Continental about five p. m. I dined alone at the Café de Paris, and then back to bed.

Sunday was beautiful, cool and clear, and a walk up to the Arc in the morning was delightful. On the way down saw Dorziat for a half hour. She was still in bed, although she said she was rehearsing daily.

Called on H. C. and L. Havemeyer, but they were both out, and so ended the day.

Monday we started out for Chaumont, and so reached the old barracks again. Everything just as we left it. Drew 226 francs travel allowance this morning. To-morrow I am to take over three wards at Piercy.

_October 21st._ A truly interesting day. Saturday we heard that four Zeppelins had been brought down, one near here. So this morning the Colonel sent down to Headquarters and found that one was near Bourbonne-les-Bains.--H. James, Schwander, Russell, Colonel and I went down in the Marmon car. It was a beautiful ride. We came on the Zep. about one mile outside Bourbonne. It had come down across a little ravine, the nose almost resting on the road. It was almost intact, the forward car only having been smashed. Some of the gas-bags and the rear end of the body seemed to be cracked.

It was simply a marvelous bit of construction, and appeared like a whale thrown up on land. Two hundred meters long and a wonderful frame built of aluminum. The bombs had all been dropped. It was built like a watch. I climbed into the forward car. The motor appeared intact and the gauges and levers were all there just as they had been left. It was all very wonderful. They had apparently lost their way and had to come down on account of lack of petrol. The crew were all taken prisoners. They tried to fire the machine, but were discovered in time and prevented.

We drove on after that to Bourbonne for lunch. The place was packed with French and Americans. Every one seemed to have come out to see the sight. Going in we saw the two officers dressed in suits of leather. One turned and smiled at us as we passed. Schwander got permission for us to talk to the prisoners, but they had all departed for Dijon when we had finished lunch.

On the way back we stopped and saw where the second had caught in the tree tops. The forward car had been broken off by the contact and fourteen men taken prisoners, but the remaining four got the Zep. going again, and went along--to be captured later. The men captured first burned the basket, but as we passed there was still a lot of wreckage sticking in the trees.

Every one was hunting for souvenirs, and they pocketed bits of the linen envelope and particles of fused metal, perfectly worthless objects. The Sergeant who captured the first lot of Boches told us that one of the officers had a bottle of poison that he was going to drink if caught. But on second thoughts he presented it to the Médecin Chef, saying he knew the French wine was good as he had lived two years in Paris working in a motor factory.

Altogether we had a most delightful and interesting day's outing.

On the way back we passed nearly a hundred motors with officers and men. The road was filled with peasants going on foot, bicycle, or in their crazy little carts packed in so thick that the poor horse could scarcely drag them. The excitement all through the countryside was intense.

_October 28th._ Nothing of any particular interest during the past week. Have charge of 11, 12, 13, 14 and 15 wards, besides two Sergeants' rooms.

To-day Floyd leaves for a tour of inspection of camp sites, and I have charge of the building.

_October 30th._ One of the girls from Vittel honored me by a visit, and while we were dining the military police rushed in and said there was an impending air raid and that all men were ordered to quarters. I thought I heard the hum of motors but was not sure.

We are trying to collect a "fee allowance" for fees given on the "Lapland" and "Grand Tulley Castle." This is at B's instigation, as he was much piqued that I collected 26 francs more than he did in travel allowance on our trip to the British front.

Two letters from America arrived to-day, one posted July 26th, the other August 6th. Some going!

It has poured rain steadily for two days now, and everything is wet and muddy.

Miss Sheriff has gotten the officers' lounge almost ready for occupancy.

_November 1st. All Saints' Day!_ And a wonderful clear day, not a cloud in the sky and scarcely a breath of wind to scatter the falling leaves. There was real joy in the air and everyone showed it.

In the morning Miss A. came. Miss A. is one of the Red Cross and is rummaging around, God knows why, because she cannot speak French, nor does she know anything of hospitals. I showed her through my wards, but it was all Greek to her.

In the afternoon I started out on my bicycle. Rode to Noisy-sur-Seize and then crossed the hills to Luzy. It was just sunset as I went over the divide, and no one can describe the peaceful beauty of it all. The church bells were tolling the Angelus, the long Angelus for the repose of souls. Smoke curled up in thin, blue columns from the little houses below in the valley, and the slanting rays of the sinking sun lit up woods and meadows with a wonderful golden glow. It lasted for a few minutes and slowly died out, and always the bells, ringing out the fading day. I sat on the crest of the hill and watched the last shadows, and then went on down into Luzy in the gray twilight, and so on home.

The Padre (Burnett) was in the room, and a hot discussion was in progress on the All Hallowe'en dance, which was given for all enlisted men, nurses and officers.

_November 4th._ I am now senior medical officer, Floyd having been called away to organize some hospital.

Major Lewis shot himself last night (suicide) down in the pretty little château at Chamaronde. Alfred Stillman was called down. He found him lying with the automatic revolver in his hand.

Peck and Cave have returned from the French front where they were working for five weeks. They are full of it, saying they were treated royally.

_November 8th._ The same old story.--Last night dined with Kilbane at Luzy. Rain and general slow times.

_November 12th._ The times are absolutely uneventful, and the life is monastic. Am taking over an American ward to-day. The Medical Chief told me I was holding too many patients and I must discharge them. It seems pretty rough, as there is hardly one that is fit to return to duty in the strict sense, but he says France lacks man power and that is their sacrifice. Their food in hospital is inadequate and miserably prepared. It seems a poor economy, because if they were well cared for they would be able so much sooner to return to duty. This is the first day the sun has shone.

_November 24th._ We received over two hundred Americans and three hundred and twenty odd French in the past forty-eight hours. The work has been very severe--practically only Henry James and myself to do it, as Martin and Peightel were both sent on other details. The C. O. knew they were coming, but we had no official notification. Everything was pandemonium, and still is. I made nearly seventy-five physical examinations per day, besides having the general directions. It was pretty strenuous and I don't think it is over yet.

Have been talking with Colonel Mitchell to-night. He is the head of the U. S. Aviation--a bright, able man. He says Germany has won the war from the military standpoint. The French man power is gone; Great Britain has made too many blunders--and now the Italian business, which was rather expected. It all certainly looks pretty dreary to me.

_November 28th._ Sergeant Hartman died of pneumonia and was buried to-day. A full military funeral with the 101st Engineers Band. He is the first one of us. It was very solemn and impressive. The Padre read the service in Pavillion Raymond, and then his body was put on the ambulance and we started for the cemetery, the band leading, then the hearse, the body draped in the American flag and covered with flowers. Twelve of the officers followed, Peck, Jim, Reed and self walking in the first column of fours, the men followed, about sixty of them, and then an ambulance with the nurses. We went down to the cemetery where at least two hundred French were gathered. We stood at attention while "Taps" were sounded, and then we turned and walked away, leaving him alone in France, looking over the valley. He had done his bit and done it well.

The corner of the little French cemetery is beginning to fill.

_November 29th. Thanksgiving Day._ From early morn every one has been smacking his lips and thinking and talking and dreaming of food. We got ours at one thirty. Of course, they had to ask in some of the 101st Engineers, and they have been hanging around our rooms all afternoon waiting for the dance. The dance is yet to come, but all is enthusiasm. The 101st Band played in the compound in the afternoon. At present there is a great hustle and bustle, hammering and knocking around in general.

My little sergeant leaves me to-night. A dapper little gentleman. I got him in the dining-room and stuffed him full of turkey, red wine and mince pie. He is a finely made fellow. In twenty days he returns to the front. Ganthor is his name.

My new uniform has come home after a three months' struggle to get it, and, of course, it does not fit.

Now for the dance!

_December 9th._ Thanksgiving has come and gone. The dance was generally reckoned a great success. The 101st Band of Engineers was very fine, but the punch put the punch in the evening, and it had plenty of spirit.

Since then things have moved along uneventfully. H. James and Calvin Coulter left the next morning for Boulogne, so Martin and I have practically carried on the medical service, aided by John Williams. The officers' quarters have been running heavily, but no particularly interesting cases anywhere.

Last night Jim Russell had a birthday and asked some of us down to eat an exceedingly good ham, and we had champagne.

Life is becoming about as eventful as a monastery and goes on with the same regularity. It is rounds, meals and a little reading, with an occasional walk. Every one is coughing and snuffling. James and Coulter are expected back to-morrow, and I hope about a week from to-day we--Martin and self--will get off. If all goes well I hope to spend Christmas in Paris.

_December 12th._ Martin and I leave Friday for Boulogne, spending Saturday in Paris. James will be in charge of the medical service. It will be very nice to get away, but I hope they give me back my function as chief of the medical service when I return.

The French seem to make absolutely no preparation for Christmas. There is not an extra ribbon hung in any shop, and in fact the only signs of Christmas are the bundles in pink ribbon that keep arriving for the men--they are many. I imagine pretty many are homesick.

Henry James and Coulter got back Monday from their trip to Boulogne. Henry said it was well worth while and seems to have enjoyed it very much.

Every one is coughing. Bronchitis is rife, and is running a very virulent course. An autopsy on one of the men yesterday showed the bronchia to be filled with pus. This was especially true in the smaller ramifications. They die from an apparent sepsis and are fine examples of a purulent bronchitis. McW., James, Stillman are all coughing and sneezing. Practically all the younger men have been in hospital with bronchitis, or influenza. I fear that our sick reports are running, and will continue to run, very heavy this winter, with a comparatively high mortality.

We had news yesterday that the Engineers of the line of communication would not take half the building over, which means that we are going to stay here and that the whole place will be run as a hospital.

Kilbane and Steiner left for Paris to-night to blow off steam.

_December 15th._ _Paris!_ Martin and I arrived last night and came to the Wagram. This morning, it is not yet nine, we have had our "café complet" in our rooms which are overlooking the Tuileries Gardens. The Louvre and the Panthéon are golden tinged in the early sunlight. It is like a spring morning and a great joy to be away from the routine.

_December 18th._ _Boulogne._ Mostly medical. Arrived here Sunday night. In the arms of the English. General high prices and bad manners prevail. Hotel Folkestone. We met Pool and Burt Lee in the dining-room on arrival Monday. Saw Cushing and Harvard Unit, then No. 3 Canadian and McCree, who showed us some of his chest work. Robinson of Harvard Unit has been doing some good blood work.

Lunch with Colonel Evans at Stationary Hospital 14. Walk home along the cliffs with a great dirigible balloon hovering over the sea. In the afternoon Robinson read his paper on transfusions and the preservation of blood.

Last night and again to-night Boche aeroplanes over the city and all lights suddenly turned out about five p.m. The city was literally in inky blackness, save for the pale flicker of the moon. Two wonderful clear cold days. The atmosphere of the place is distinctly one of depression. They all admit the situation is serious.

_December 24th._ We left Boulogne last Thursday and started for Paris. The train was packed with "permissionaires" and all in a very jolly humor. The trip was well worth while, because it gave me many suggestions of the problems of war medicine. The crowd was terrific when we arrived in Paris--no taxis, so we struggled with the complications of the metro, finally reaching the Wagram.

Friday visited Vidal at Hospital Cochin. He had his clinic. We waited for him and met him in his ante-room. He was most cordial. The man has done a tremendous amount of literary work. There were volumes of it. He is a thickset, forcible man of about forty-eight or fifty.

I lunched with Lillie H. that afternoon where she had Cross and a Miss McCook, Y. M. C. A. In the evening dined with Henry Clews, who was in good form and opened up in the old style. Saturday L. lunched with me and in the evening I dined with Mrs. Stuart. Friday afternoon saw Madam A., an American woman with a Dutch husband. P. wanted me to see her. Stupid old thing, as deaf as a post.

Martin left me this morning. Am alone now till Wednesday or Thursday, and then back again.

_December 27th._ Returned from Paris with S. Ground white with snow. They all seemed glad to see me. Evidently Christmas was a great success. A full round of drinks, and they say all were happy, the Colonel included. The place is packed with patients. Y. M. C. A. tent is up and for the present filled with cots--cots in the corridors, so we are in now for a lively time.

1918

_January 18th._ Since last writing nothing of great importance has taken place.

My recommendation for a majority was sent to Washington about ten days ago by Colonel Hansell. I hope it goes through and goes through quickly. The snow has all disappeared and beautiful, glorious mud reigns in its place. The Colonel is trying to jack up discipline--God knows it needs it. I caught one man staggering home dead drunk and had the pleasure of putting him under arrest. Blankets are being taken and electric-light bulbs. The same old lazy American methods. Saw our officers walking along the roads in their long coats, pretty sloppy looking objects. You cannot make a soldier unless you dress him in a soldierly fashion. The everlasting cry is we are a young country and it takes us time to learn, but, damnation, does it take one hundred and fifty years? Why could not our Government have attended to these matters twenty-five years ago?

_February 1st._ Kilbane, Steiner and myself are off in the morning for our seven days' vacation. We are going to Nice, motoring to Dijon where we hope to be able to catch the train or rather get accommodations on a train, as we hear everything is crowded.

Took my physical exam. for majority two days ago, Martin examining.

We have had a wonderful fifteen days of clear weather, half of them quite summery, but for the most part the air is very damp and penetrating.

_February 14th._ Back in Nice, with one day in Paris. We caught the train from Dijon at one thirty a.m., and stood up the balance of the night in the corridor as there were no seats--men and women stretched out full length lying on the floor. Reached Marseilles at twelve noon the next day, and stopped off for the balance of the day and night, taking the express next morning. Beautiful country. Stopped at Nice at the Hotel Negresco. First class. Perfect weather.

We have twelve new M. C. nurses and enlisted men. A perfect mob now, but they seem a fairly decent lot. Same old job, except this time I am to start some fool work on food with a test squad of fifty men. Cannot make out any point to it, except they want to find out how much waste there is in preparation of food.

_February 22nd._ Was sworn in as Major this morning by Colonel Island.

_February 28th._ Howard Peck died.

_March 1st._ Howard's funeral. 6th Artillery brass band, and all walked down to the new American Cemetery. Poor Major Peck!

_March 2nd._ We heard two weeks ago that Alfred Stillman's brother was killed while flying. Alfred has been in London, having left on receipt of the news.

There are twelve new raw-boned Southerners added to our Unit since my return from Nice.

This morning we sent two operating teams to American C.C.S. No. 1, McWilliams among them. Armitage Whittman has taken Henry James's bed in our rooms. He seems to be a nice fellow. Stuart Benson, Paul Draper, Beekman Hoppin and Mrs. "Bordie" Harriman have all turned up at one time or another.

_March 9th._ Alfred Stillman and I got a motor and rode out to American C.C.S. No. 1, just north of Toul--a beautiful spring day and a very pleasant trip. We lunched and dined at the Officers' Club, Neufchâteau, which sports a fine bar.

_March 10th._ Last night some of the convalescent officers got two motors and we went down and saw Elsie Janis. She told stories, sang songs and danced for an hour and fifteen minutes. It was a delightful performance, she was so perfectly natural and joked and talked with the audience.

_March 14th._ Am leaving for Paris for two days to-night with Major Malone.

_March 23rd._ This has been an eventful day. In the first place, Colonel Hansell and Major Peck went on their vacations and I was left C.O., which entails many fussy details. Then this afternoon Colonel Mitchell of the Flying Corps, who was recently a patient of mine at the Officers' Pavillion, paid me a call, asked me to motor out to Hill 412 Aerodrome with him, and sent me off on an aeroplane flight with a French pilot.

It was a wonderful sensation. We flew about twenty miles, circling over Chaumont and the hospital. Words cannot describe it. It has all the thrill of flying. The woods looked like little bunches of moss. We flew over the Canal, which had the color of bright emerald. The Flying Corps for me, if it wasn't for this cursed age.

_April 4th._ This is approximately the tenth day of the great battle. For many days we have all been very anxious, but now a rapid feeling of confidence has arisen that the enemy is held.

Have been Commanding Officer at the hospital for the past thirteen days, the Colonel and Peck having taken their vacation in Nice.

_April 19th._ _Paris_--Medical conference. Hansell and I roomed together. I heard the big gun go off twice, otherwise all was quiet.

Alexander Lambert asked me to dine with him. There were eight at dinner--his wife, Major Strong and wife, and Colonel Island, also Colonels Martin and Cummings of the English Army. While there Major Thayer told me I was to be detailed to one of the Divisions as Divisional Consultant. I was much pleased, as the news was a great surprise, for among all the wire-pulling I hardly expected to have anything good handed out unsolicited.

_April 25th._ Orders to proceed to Neufchâteau. Threw the necessities in my old grip, rolled up the bedding and off in a Ford ambulance. Of course, all haste was unnecessary, as when I got in Major Thayer was away and Boggs, the Assistant Director of Medical Service, had gone to Chaumont. Saw Finney, who invited me to lunch--one of those sweetly solemn male luncheons where every one was afraid to say anything.

Later that day Boggs turned up and we talked over affairs. The Consultant has charge and direction of all cases in his department. My orders were in a measure vague, and I should imagine it was largely up to me to create the position.

Spent the night at the Officers' Club and next day, Saturday, motored with Finney and Boggs to C. C. S. No. 1 at Sevastepol where we lunched. Saw Pool and McWilliams. The latter has gotten very fat. From there we went on to Bucy, the 26th Division Headquarters, situated in a charming old Norman château with beautiful grounds, and from the terrace a superb view overlooking "Bocheland." It seemed a sacrilege to desecrate the grounds. Guns were booming in the distance, and the streets of the village were full of United States troops and transports.

For fifteen miles and more behind the lines, the French were digging entrenchments and erecting barbed wire. They are evidently taking no chances.

My original orders were not sufficiently comprehensive, so Sunday returned to Chaumont with Brewer, and here I am (May 3rd) waiting further orders before embarking on my new mission.

_May 6th._ The new mission was just on the point of materializing when the 'phone rang and I was told, with Colonel Keller's compliments, to "disregard my orders." I felt like one personally conducted to hell and abandoned. Dumped for some reason. It was cruel. I debated for some time and then walked down to H. Q. and saw K. All the satisfaction obtainable was that the 2nd Division was coming out of the line and that a general reorganization was pending and to sit tight for further orders, which would surely come, and I would not be forgotten. Said he was not at liberty to divulge their plans further, and then changed the subject and talked about Colonel Reno's death by suicide, saying he was his best friend and showing me a letter from his wife.

Moved our mess-hall over on the south end of the ground. Not much to do, and every one depressed and gloomy. Cadwalader and Stillman having their afternoon naps. Saw Major Flint last night at Hotel France--said John Alsop was with him. Paul Draper regaled us yesterday with his days of prosperity. It was a very wonderful story.